A Sinner's Prayer
by Latona Enelra Caine
Summary: Red struggles to hold on to the remaining strength that he has as he stumbles through the streets of Baltimore. Against his better judgement he turns to the only person who can save him: Elizabeth Keen. Set immediately after the events of Anslo Garrick Pt 2.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So this is my first Blacklist fic! I worked on it for nearly two months and couldn't have done it without the help of Jackandsamforever! It will have some Lizzington. I am just beginning with these two, so I am still trying to get a feel for how their relationship would play out. Either way, I hope you guys enjoy it!

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Calm Before the Storm

Exhausted and drenched in sweat, Red shivered from the cold air that bit against his skin as he walked through the alley ways between the abandoned buildings around him. He'd heard the sirens approaching after walking out of the church and had had no desire to stick around and answer pointless questions from the Feds or to endanger Lizzie's life by being near her. Fitch would no doubt still have eyes on him and most likely knew of her as well; so he had done what he was second best at. Disappearing. It was unlikely that they would find him anyway. Not without the chip.

He smirked and thanked Anslo's idiotic corpse for that one small favor. Had it not been for that girl in the ambulance he would not have been rid of the little tracking device. However, he couldn't help but feel a surge of fury run through his quivering body at the thought of what the damned man's scheme had driven him to.

Leaving Lizzie behind alone with her husband.

Red tried to come up with a plan to try to help her in any way he could, but couldn't think of much that he could do while on the run. Dembe would keep an eye on her for him no doubt, and if Mr. Kaplan was in contact with her, then she would be able to keep surveillance on Tom as well. Lord knew what the woman could do with a computer given a couple minutes. She could probably get the Russians to blast the scruffy man-child off of the face of the earth if she was so inclined.

Red stumbled over a pothole on the ground, splashing into a puddle of dirty water in the process. He felt his socks squish uncomfortably inside his Italian hand-stitched shoes. His whole frame trembled, sending spasms of pain through his sore muscles. With a curse, he leaned against the brick wall of a building while a groan escaped his lips as he desperately clutched his side where Anslo had punched him repeatedly.

Begrudgingly, Red had to admit to himself that despite his stoic facade with Anslo, the serums had had a profound effect on him. His ribs burned with each breath he took, and it felt as if his midsection was being squeezed together painfully. He glanced down the alley towards the streets beyond and could see a few people walking about, running some last-minute errands or walking their dogs before the day ended. Nighttime would be falling soon, which would make it much easier to walk amongst everyone.

Red closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. He felt dreadfully tired and in a matter of minutes he wouldn't be able to hold his own weight anymore. He needed to find somewhere to keep out of sight and out of danger until he could contact someone. He heaved himself away from the building and walked towards the first door he saw. It was a security door with bolted locks. Red checked to make sure that no one was watching before fishing the bloody hook he had stabbed Anslo with and began fiddling with the lock.

His hands trembled with the nonstop tremors that wracked his body. His head was pounding and he felt bile rising in his throat. The noise of passing cars was making the pain in his head worse, and for a moment he considered shoving the damned hook through his own skull if only to stop the pain. He rattled the hook inside the keyhole desperately before it finally gave way and clicked open. He sighed in relief, swiftly slipped inside and shut the door behind him. He fell back against the door and squeezed his eyes shut. His ribs protested at the slightest movement, and caused his breathing to hitch every so often. Each breath was coming out with a wheeze now. He groaned and slid to the floor, trying to gain some semblance of control over his body.

Red cleared his mind of any distracting thoughts and concentrated on filling his lungs. In and out. In and out.

After several moments the wheeze slowly began to dissipate and his breath evened out; he finally cracked his eyes opens to take in his surroundings. He could see that he had walked straight into a small kitchen with an old white refrigerator and a stove that was wedged between the fridge and the counter. He made his way over to the sink near a tiny window, obscured by what Red assumed was an ungodly amount of dirt.

Red pressed his fingertips against the tender area around his lips just beneath his nose and winced. Another little gift from the British asshole. With a flick of his wrists, he switched the taps on and began splashing cool water against his clammy skin. He scrubbed at the caked blood around his mouth and then touched his temple, wincing at the sting he felt at the contact. They'd been particularly rough with him when they'd pulled him out of the ambulance. So much so that he'd ended up flat on his face the minute he stepped out. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and ran if under the water and then dabbed it lightly against the bruised area. After he was finished, he switched the tap off and turned to assess the place more thoroughly.

To his left was a small living room with a horrid red couch that was covered in stains and large holes. There were no magazines, decorations or pictures that indicated any having lived there recently. He walked down the hall near the living room towards what appeared the bedroom. It was the same as the rest of the place. There was a bed in the center of the room, but the mattress was bare, completely stripped of any bedding. The open sliding closet across the room held a few wire hangers: his favorite. You could never go wrong with a wire hanger at hand.

Convinced that no one would be returning any time soon, Red went to the bed and eased himself down on it. His body felt numb, cold and achy all at once. He glanced towards the window that had blinds that must have been white at one point, but were now covered in a layer of grime. Light filtered through it nonetheless, casting an orange glow on the dirty carpet. He would wait until nightfall to leave, but for now he needed to rest. With that in mind, he let his quivering body fall against the lumpy mattress. His last thoughts were of seeing Lizzie safe and sound once more before exhaustion finally allowed him to let go of everything, if only for a little while.

-R-R-R-R-R-  
Red approached the door with one last heave of breath, clutching his side in pain. His trek up the stairs had left him even more exhausted than the two and a half mile walk he'd just endured in the chilly weather. His body ached with no relief in sight. He leaned against the porch railing for a moment before focusing his attention back on the door. It was then that he noticed the small yellow sliver of light that was floating through the door, which was slightly ajar. Had he not been looking close he would have missed it.

Red peered through the windows and saw that a living room lamp was casting a dim glow behind the curtains. He turned back to the door and gently pushed it open before slipping inside. None of the plain furniture seemed out of place, and nothing appeared to have been disturbed. Hr recalled there being a dog when he'd last had Dembe look in on Lizzie, but the damned mutt was nowhere to be found.

He cocked his head to the side listening for any noise. He could hear the whisper of faint breathing coming from somewhere nearby. He eased himself towards the living room and inched closer towards the dining room where the light was coming from. No doubt there was something waiting there for him. Years of having to live on the edge had not assuaged the assault that his heart would take under pressure and adrenaline. He stopped short of the doorway and took a deep breath that ended up hurting more than helping, and stepped forward.  
What he saw was enough to make his legs nearly give out beneath him.

Lizzie hung from the chandelier on the ceiling by her wrists where the table should have been. Her mouth was bound and gagged and the side of her face had blood smeared all over it. The strapped shirt she wore had been torn around the middle where blood seeped through slashes on her stomach.

Red grasped the doorway feeling lightheaded as the room began to spin. A loud buzzing filled his burning ears as he shook his head, feeling dazed. His Lizzie. The woman he had promised to protect. His only reason for moving on. The one thing he would meet the ends of the universe for, hung before him like a beaten angel, reflecting the exact position he had been in hours before. Only he was the devil.

Reds vision went fuzzy and the room was distorted as if it was a picture on a TV screen that was going out. He opened his mouth, and worked his jaw to get ready to scream, but no sound came out. The buzzing in his ears became high-pitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut desperately wanting to die.

-R-R-R-R-

With a gasp Red bolted upright on the bed, sucking lungful's of musty air into his injured body. He squinted his eyes in the darkness in confusion wondering for several seconds just where in the hell he was. Then the last several hours came back to him. With a groan, Red pressed his face into his palms at the onslaught of unwanted memories. Germany, Donald's leg, Anslo's ugly face, the box, Luli, all of the blood. And then Lizzie.

Red shuddered when the sight of her bloody and beaten body came back to him. Everything he was trying to prevent, and trying to keep her from was there in one of the most horrific nightmares he'd ever had. He tried taking slow breaths in an attempt to calm his still frayed nerves, but he didn't think the image of Lizzie hanging there helpless would ever leave him.

It was then that he realized that he could still hear the high-pitched whistling in his ears which had been plaguing him in his nightmare. He turned his wrist and realized that his watch alarm was going off. Red blindly felt along the buttons until his fingers found the right one and silenced it. In the darkness of the room with only his thoughts to keep him company, he felt an overwhelming need to lay his head back down on the mattress and sleep more. To fall into an abyss where he could escape all of these worries and the pain coursing through his beaten body.

Red felt a sudden surge of paranoia travel up his spine, making the hairs on his neck stand up, and snapped his head towards the window where the moon was casting a faint white glow. There, sitting on a chair, was the dark silhouette of a man. His face was cast in a shadow so that Red had to strain his eyes to try to see who it was.

A smooth laugh broke the silence in the room. "Hello Raymond", a man's familiar voice drawled. "Don't suppose you thought you'd be seeing me again did you?" The man moved forward towards the moonlight, leaning his elbows against his knees. Blue eyes pierced though what Red felt was his very soul.

Despite his best attempts Red could only breathe out one word.

"Sam."

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A/N 2: So how am I doing so far?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, liked, or followed! I really appreciate it! **

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**The Man Behind the Lies**

"NO!"

The roar emanated from Red's lips across the solitary room, while a surge of panic coursed through his body as his eyes darted around in the darkness. There wasn't anyone sitting in the shadows. Slowly he tried to calm himself before running a hand over his face in exasperation. He breathed in carefully in hopes that his racing heart would slow down. Since his days as a navy officer, his nightmares had always taken such vivid forms, making them feel real, and leaving him with a cold pit of dread in his stomach each time he woke up from them. Thoughts of Lizzie and getting out of DC to keep her safe began to flit through his mind.

And just as quickly, those thoughts disappeared as he silently fell into a litany of prayers that he'd picked up during his childhood. He'd hardly ever been a religious man; killing people with hooks, wire hangers, and shower caddies would have probably ousted him from being the most devoted Catholic in the world.  
_  
...forgive us our trespasses_

But at times like these he found that turning to that part of his past where his boyhood innocence was still intact brought him comfort. Perhaps it was the thought of someone or something out there that had more power than him and was still looking out for his stained and tainted soul that brought him comfort.

_Lead us not into temptation  
But deliver us from evil_

The thought of still having a second chance amidst all the wrong he had done brought him some peace of mind. He couldn't be a lost cause forever...could he?

_Deliver us from evil_

Deliver us from evil

His mantra was interrupted by the welcome thought of Lizzie. He wanted to see her one more time. Just one more time to make sure she was safe. If only for peace of mind. God forbid that one of Anslo's people went and harmed her in any way. He was surprised at how quickly she had managed to consume his thoughts and even his life, and found himself thinking of her more and more often. So much so that he was having nightmares about her well-being.

A dream within a dream. How horrific! It had all felt so real. The anticipation of seeing Lizzie safe and sound only to have that notion torn away by the chilling sight of her hanging in her sanctuary, vulnerable to anyone and anything…

He couldn't take lying on a lumpy bed that wasn't his anymore. With a groan, Red swung his legs over the side of the bed and stopped short when a wave of dizziness overtook him. He was tempted to flop back across the bed again and drift off to sleep. He leaned his head on his hands trying to quell his whirring thoughts and spinning head. The nausea he had been experiencing earlier in the day was still there, a small reminder of what he'd undergone at the hands of his now deceased associate. Now was no longer the time to dwell on that.

Red steeled himself for the pain to come and heaved himself to his feet with a groan. His ribs and stomach began to violently protest against the movement. He swayed on his feet and watched as the room began to spin at break-neck speeds again. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them to the once more. They adjusted to the darkness after several seconds, and to Reds relief the room had stopped moving.

He carefully made his way to the door and pressed his hands against the frame to steady himself.

"Just a few more miles to go." He mumbled to himself.

Red mustered up all the strength he could and centered himself. Focus. Focus was key. And with that, he started towards the door and walked out into the night.

-R-R-R-R

"Ouch!"

The teenage boy cried as Red's arm collided with his shoulder.

"Oh! I _do_ beg your pardon son!" Red said in a feigned voice of compassion. "You see, I've lost my cell phone and medication and I'm feeling a bit disoriented at the moment, especially because night is falling!"

The boy nodded in understanding and adjusted the bag on his shoulder. "It's cool, I should pay more attention to where I'm going too." He smiled apologetically.

Red stuck his hand out and the boy grasped it. "Raymond Rourke, pleasure."

"James Heaps," Red watched as the young man glanced at the side of his face. "Are you okay? You look pretty beat up, your eye-"

Red laughed loudly. "It's a funny story- I ran into a cabinet door at home."

James nodded in amusement.

"James, I was wondering, would you happen to have a cell phone I could borrow for a minute or two? I'd like to call my wife and let her know what's happened." Red looked around as if he was at an utter loss as to where he was.

"Yeah sure-let me just-", the boy dug his phone out from his backpack and entered the pass code before handing it to Red.

"And you just tap the screen correct?" Red asked, feigning incompetence.

"Uh yeah." James grinned.

Red moved a few feet away and turned his back to James, then quickly dialed the number and pressed the phone to his ear, trying to block out the noise of the cars and people walking nearby. The phone rang once before it was answered.

"Kaplan," answered a raspy voice.

"It's Red," he replied in a smooth tone.

"We've been looking everywhere for you. The Feds' have put a number on your head again as expected."

Red nodded even though she couldn't see him. "How's Lizzie?"

"At her house with Keen. Dembe is keeping an eye on her, and it appears they were having a disagreement over something."

"I'll make sure to look in on her. Get Dembe and Grey to begin making funeral arrangements for Luli. They won't have any use for her body anymore," he said in a strained voice.

"We'll take care of her," Kaplan replied.

"Send a cab to get me here in Little Italy on Fleet Street. I walked for over an hour to get here," Red added.

"I'll send one over immediately. Where do you want it to drop you off?"

"I have a safe house just a block from here. I'll pick up some stuff from there, then head back to Washington." Red glanced at James out of the corner of his eye. The boy appeared to be preoccupied with his iPod. Thank God for the unobservant youth.

"You're coming back for the girl?" Kaplan said. It was a statement rather than a question.

Red remained silent.

"Raymond."

No answer.

"Raymond. You know that's a risk." Kaplan seethed.

"I know that, but she needs to know that I'm not just leaving her," Red replied tightly.

"Garrick's people will be keeping tabs on you they won't hesitate to-"

Red cut her off. "Garrick is dead. I killed him. Surely you got word of that already?"

"I checked the intel we have within the FBI, and there hasn't been any updated information, though I assumed as much."

"No, the sharks we're dealing with are much bigger than Garrick," Red paused and breathed in deeply, wincing at the pain. "It's Fitch."

"Fitch? Should've known," she muttered bitterly

Red glanced back at James, who was looking at him with an expression that was bordering on horrified.

"Listen, Kaplan, we'll need to continue this discussion later when there aren't any prying ears around that may overhear us. Send the cab to Cafe Gaia and I'll be seeing you soon."

"Right."

The line died, and Red switched the phone off and turned to James with a wide grin.

"Thank you very much, you were a big help," Red told him as he handed back the cell phone.

James continued to watch him in amazement.

"Did you really kill a guy?"

Red laughed. "Of course not! Just a bit of role playing some friends and I do occasionally. Bit of nonsense really, but now I have to go. Have a good night!"

On that note, Red began striding away leaving the young man standing in the middle of the sidewalk dumbstruck. When he reached the cafe several blocks down the street, he looked in the windows of the cafe. It was full of young people out for the night, making the place loud and stuffy looking. A few couples were milling about outside, but it was still quiet. The loud hum of chatter was broken by the steady stream of water falling from a water fountain.

Red took a seat at one of the empty tables and looked himself over. He'd managed to scrub most of the blood from his shirt, leaving only a faint pink tinge. It was still slightly damp, but it was better than being caked in blood. He still felt tired, but all things considered, he could say that it was an improvement from shivering with each small whisper of wind.

He knew going to see Lizzie was bad judgment on his part, but knowing that she was out there without anyone to help her cope with what was happening, left him vulnerable. The walls she had broken through were no longer there to protect him from her charms and graces, however unintentional they may be. He had fallen for her, and he had fallen for her hard. She had him wrapped around her little finger and there was nothing he could do about it.

Red shifted uncomfortably at the thought, and felt his neck cramp slightly. He could still smell the metal from the chains on his wrists, and imagined that he could feel Donald's slimy blood on his hands as well. Just as he was considering taking a dive in the nearby fountain, a black sedan with tinted windows pulled up beside the curb, and a tall barrel chested man in a black suit with a shaved head stepped out.

"Mr. Reddington?"

Red sighed and stood up, wincing as his ribs spasmed.

"Yes, that's me."

The man opened the door for him and stepped aside. "My name is Maximilian, I'll be your driver tonight."

Red got in, and then the door shut behind him, leaving him alone for a few precious seconds. The driver's door opened and Maximilian slid inside.

"Where to first, Sir?" He asked catching Red's eye in the rear view mirror.

"Home first. I need to pack some essentials, and then we're heading to Washington," Red told him.

"Of course sir," Maximilian replied, before pulling away from the curb.

Red leaned back against the leather seat, thinking how much he was looking forward to a good scrub and clean clothes. Lizzie would be pleased to see him alive; he hoped.

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**A/N: Reviews are welcome!**

******I actually researched the geography to get the names of the streets and the cafe! It was pretty fun!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to all of you for your generous reviews! I am glad you are all enjoying this story! **

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**Red Wine in the Night**

It felt good to not have blood and dust coating his body. He felt as if he'd just shed a whole layer of skin after stepping out of the shower back at his apartment in Baltimore. After dressing immaculately in a suit and a fresh windbreaker, he'd gathered one of the many boxes he kept hidden in each of his safe houses; which contained a considerable amount of money, a hand gun and some nice fake passports. All he needed to disappear off the face of the earth faster than the speed of light.

-R-R-R-R-

The stillness of the small living room he'd broken into hours earlier surrounded him like a dark blanket. The light streaming in through the curtains from the streetlights outside cast a white glow across his chest. For several minutes he contemplated going upstairs to pay Lizzie a little visit in her room. However, Red had not contacted Dembe or Kaplan to confirm Tom's whereabouts, and he didn't think she would appreciate the intrusion on his part. So he opted to stay put on the couch and wait for her to come to him...eventually. He was surprised, really, to see how deeply she slept after all that she'd been through today. He, on the other hand, hadn't had a good night's sleep in years.

He sat on the couch, continually convincing and then talking himself out of going up to Lizzie's bedroom; he needed a distraction. He didn't think she would mind if he raided her kitchen to grab a drink and perhaps even a bite to eat. He hadn't eaten anything aside from the Spätzle back at the pub in Germany.

He stood up and made his way past the dining room into the small kitchen at the side of the house. It was tastefully furnished and well-kept, not like the kitchens he was accustomed to using, but nice. A facade of a happy life. But Red knew all too well that the seeds of doubt he had planted in Lizzie's mind had begun taking its toll on her. He could see it in the way she stubbornly tried to carry on as if nothing was wrong with finding connections between her husband and the most hostile terrorist in Germany.

Red opened the refrigerator; it hummed to life and lit up most of the floor in a pool of white light. There was a box of cold Chinese on one of the shelves, and some white cubes which Red assumed to be tofu. No doubt a courtesy of the man child in Lizzie's bed. Why anyone would want to substitute good hearty meat for that he couldn't fathom. He opened the meat box and nearly keeled over at the sight. Turkey bacon! Turkey bacon everywhere! Good Lord! Why? Lucky for him there was a package of roast beef cuts for a sandwich. He prayed to the heavens that that was Lizzie's doing.

Red took the package out and flung it on the island behind him. There was a half full bottle of white wine on the side of the door. He preferred red wine, but this would have to do. He grabbed everything else he would need for a sandwich and let the door slam shut. He noisily rummaged through the cupboards for the bread, and then set a plate and knife out.

With neat and precise movements, Red began slicing a tomato and placing the thick slices onto two different pieces of bread. He spread mayo onto the other two pieces, and in no time had made two considerably large sandwiches. Perhaps he had put too much effort into making them as perfect as possible, but one could never say Raymond Reddington half-assed a job.

He turned back towards the cupboards and found two wine glasses, then took the cork screw out from the drawer. Red paused when he heard the unmistakable sound of a brushing movement nearby. He smirked to himself before focusing on the task at hand. With one swift movement, he brought down the end of the screw and pierced the cork firmly with it.

He turned around towards the island as the cork gave a loud _¡PoP! _Just in time to see Lizzie drop her gun to her side with a gasp.

"Lizzie!" Red exclaimed and grinned widely, completely unfazed by her abrupt entrance.

"Jesus, Red!" Lizzie's chest heaved as she her breaths came out in short gasps. "What the hell are you doing here?" She whispered harshly.

"Checking up on you," Red replied smoothly. He admired the way the moonlight streamed in through the window and touched her face. Another grin tugged at his lips when she shifted under his scrutinizing gaze.

Red sat down on the stool in front of the island and motioned towards the stool beside his. "Join me Lizzie. I've fixed us some delicious sandwiches for lack of anything that had any real protein in it," he said while pouring the white liquid in the wine glasses.

Red watched as she glanced over her shoulder towards the silent stairway before turning towards him, and slowly easing herself down onto the stool with her knees towards him. Her eyes roamed over him, never leaving his body, as if she was afraid that he would disappear at any moment.

Red picked up his sandwich and pushed the plate with the remaining one over to her. She eyed it with an incredulous expression that said, 'Really?'

"Come now Lizzie," Red said as he took a giant bite and moaned loudly with pleasure. He swallowed thickly and motioned towards her.

"Oh my God!" she breathed as she leaned in closer to him to peer at his shirt in the darkness. "Is that blood on your shirt?

Red laughed and checked his collar where the bandage he had applied to his shoulder had become slightly stained with with blood. Nothing that would kill him. He immediately changed the subject. "Go on," He reached for his wine glass and took a large gulp. "Eat!"

Liz shook her head in exasperation as he continued to eat with fervor. "Red!" Liz snapped when she realized that she wouldn't be getting any answers from him any time soon.

"Yes, Lizzie?" Red said around another sip of wine. His throat had become parched after the long hours stuck in the box and being tortured by maniacs. He only was now beginning to realize now how thirsty he had been.

"What happened?" she asked trying to catch his eye while he avoided looking at her. "Mr. Kaplan and I went to the warehouse but you weren't there, and Dembe tried looking for you in your safe houses when we couldn't find you at the Church.

Reds mouth formed a straight line at her words. With a sigh, he put the half eaten sandwich down on the plate, succumbing to the fact that he could no longer avoid the inevitable. He scratched the back of his head trying to stall for as long as possible. Finally, when he couldn't put it off anymore, he met her eyes. They were full of confusion and worry. Worry for him?

"I'm sorry for what I've put you through today Lizzie," he said quietly.  
He watched as she struggled with how to respond to his heartfelt words. She obviously didn't understand the full extent of his feelings towards her. How could she, when he was constantly having to weave a web of questions in order to lead her towards the direction that the answers were?

She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, "What happened?" She asked again in a hushed tone.

"There's a mole within the FBI. That's how Anslo and his people were able to breech the Post Office. The people involved in this are much bigger than Anslo. They meant to intimidate me in order to keep our business dealings under wraps," Red explained in an even timbre.

"And these are the people that Anslo Garrick took you to?"

Red smiled humorlessly. "That is correct, Lizzie."

Lizzie shook her head in disbelief. "What did they do to you?"

"Oh the usual," Red waved a hand dismissively. "Torture, beatings, attempted castration, but you know, I would never allow anyone but yourself to go near my ancestral jewels."

Lizzie rolled her eyes and glared at him, then reached out hesitantly and turned his face towards the moonlight. She let out a small gasp at the sight.

"Red, your eye is swollen shut!" She said with shock.

He laughed softly at her concern over something which seemed so trivial at a time like this. He considered leaning further into her touch, but figured that that would be pushing the limits.

"It'll heal soon enough," he replied.

"Where else are you injured?" she asked.

Reds eye twitched slightly as she gave him an imploring look. "Nothing to worry yourself over Lizzie. Just a few broken ribs. That's it."

Liz shook her head in disbelief, then sighed and looked towards the stairs again. She seemed to contemplate something for a moment before standing, apparently having made her mind up, and walked over to a hook on the wall to grab her car keys. "Come on."

Red continued to watch as she went to the coat closet down the hall and grabbed her jacket. "Lizzie, it's  
much too dangerous for you to be seen anywhere near me. I need to get everything squared away before we can even think about-"

"Red." Liz seethed quietly. "Let's. Go."

She approached him again and put her hand on his arm to help him stand up. He let out a groan when his side gave him another jolt of pain as he struggled to get off of the stool.

"We need to get you somewhere where you can rest," she whispered, as she took hold of his arm and threw it over her shoulders to lead him outside. "Are there any hotels we can stay at that won't be on their radars?"

Red grunted in disdain. "Lizzie." he murmured when they reached the front door. "I would think that you would have more confidence in my abilities to make _my_ safe-houses undetectable."

Liz rolled her eyes, then said, "Fine, which one do you want to go to then?"

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**A/N 2: I love hearing what you guys think! More reviews welcome!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Bloodstream**

"Stop moving!" Liz snapped as she tried swiping a cotton ball that reeked of alcohol across his split eyebrow.

"You're burning away my flesh Lizzie, it's a bit hard not to." Red told her as he winced at the sting.

They'd driven half an hour out of Washington to a more rural part of the state that was protected by the forests around the area. Red had directed her towards a secluded road in the middle of the woods, in the pitch dark, where one wouldn't even think to find anything there. However, Red had built a reasonably large cottage there with the help of some Russian construction worker friends of his after a difficult run in with the Koreans. Liz had made a short stop at a pharmacy, and when she had come back out of the store, Red asked if she'd been able to buy the store out altogether; she just glared at him and pulled the car away from the curb.

They had only arrived several minutes ago, and night was slowly giving way to day. He'd tried to start a fire in the fireplace to ward of the chill that had set into the cottage, but Liz immediately planted him on the couch and began working on the first wound she could see.

"OUCH!" Red flinched away from the little cotton ball again and glared at Lizzie petulantly.

Liz rolled her eyes, "You're such a child, Red."

He huffed in annoyance at her words, but much to his chagrin, had to agree with her. He'd endured the worst thrown at him by that fraud of a doctor back at the church without so much as a peep, and here he was crying over Liz's ministrations to his wounds.

To his relief, she set the much loathed cotton ball aside, then pulled out some pain pills and handed them to him, along with a glass of water she'd gotten earlier.

"I'm going to bind your ribs now." She told him as she took some tape out.

"Hmm." Red hummed as he swallowed the pills and water. "I'll admit they are hurting quite a bit at the moment; perhaps it's best if you do do that."

Liz nodded looking slightly uncomfortable. "You're..ah..going have to remove your shirt."

Red fought to restrain a smile at the blush creeping up her neck. It was delightful to see that he could have that effect on her. With deft fingers he quickly unbuttoned his dress shirt and shrugged it off, leaving him in his white undershirt.

"You're gonna have to help me with the undershirt Lizzie." he said softly. A flutter of excitement ran through him in anticipation, but he quickly pushed it away when he saw just how embarrassed she was.

She nodded and gently pulled the t-shirt out of his waistband and began pulling it over his head. He lifted his arms up to his chest and held his breath, trying to keep from groaning in pain again. She paused for a moment, leaving the shirt hanging limply from his arms, before he pulled it off himself. He watched as her eyes roamed across his neck and down chest. For a minute, he thought she was inspecting his tattoo, but then her eyes traveled further down to his ribs.

"God, Red," She looked as of she was close to tears. "They're purple!"

He glanced down to his waist, and sure enough the skin around his middle was dark purple with sickly yellow patches in some places.

"Ah, that." he said as if he'd just realized it was there. "It'll heal in no time. Nothing to worry about."

"You'd walk around like this if there was no one here to stop you." Liz shook her head in irritation.

"Indeed I would," he confirmed.

She unwrapped the tape and sat down beside him on the couch. He felt himself leaning towards her as her scent of raspberries and vanilla washed over him; completely overwhelming his senses.

She seemed to ignore his close proximity, and began tightly wrapping the tape around his ribs; the constant brush of her fingertips against his stomach sending shivers up his spine.

She worked quietly for several moments before eventually breaking the silence, "So, uh, I didn't take you for a very religious person," she said glancing towards the rosary tattoo that ran across his chest and up around his neck.

Red smiled faintly, "My mother and father raised me Catholic when I was a young boy, but I've never been one to devoutly attend church."

Liz smiled at him. "But?"

Red glanced at her. "But I do believe and study scriptures...in vain of course."

"Why do you say that?"

Red laughed lightly. "Lizzie, I've gone to hell and back. I'm sure that when I die, I'll be staying there forever."  
Liz finished wrapping his ribs, obviously thinking over his words.

"There." she announced. "Done."

"Thank you, Lizzie," he told her, and she smiled in return.

She started to stand, but he reached out and grabbed her hand. "Stay."

She looked like she was going to refuse.

"Just..Sit with me for a few moments Lizzie," Red said. The sense of urgency that had been driving him the whole day had gone away now that they were here alone. She was here in front of him, safe. He could touch her and see her with his own eyes; no more nightmares to warp his perception of reality.

She leaned into the couch and laid her head on the back, facing him. She reached for his hand then squeezed it, giving him a sleepy smile.

"Red..."

"Yes, Lizzie?"

"You're not going to hell," she muttered.

He masked his face into a neutral expression, then waited a beat before replying, "Lizzie, I've done many things that would invalidate that argument."

"I know I don't know everything that you've done, but I know you're not going to hell."

Red sighed deeply and stared across the room towards the empty fireplace. "Lizzie, I need to disappear for a while. I hate to leave like this, but I need to find out where the leak at the Blacksite is coming from."

He let go of her hand, put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She went willingly and sighed softly as she put her head on his shoulder. "I want you to know that I'll always come back the moment you need me."

He waited for some type of dazed remark, but when it didn't come, he turned his face towards hers and found that she was fast asleep. He smiled to himself, then shifted slightly and yawned, grateful that the pills were having an effect. He'd be gone before she knew it, but for now he took comfort in the fact that she was in his arms for the moment, safe from the oncoming storm.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your kind words and support! I realize that the ending was very anti-climatic, but hopefully some of you found it enjoyable. The song title comes from the song, _Bloodstream_, by Stateless, it's my OTP song. Like I said before, I am still getting a feel for our lovely couple. I'll be posting another Lizzington fic in the future- I'll never be able to stay away from them! **


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